Armored Hearts (5 page)

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Authors: Angela Knight

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BOOK: Armored Hearts
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Zara jerked her eyes away from his aggressive predator’s stare. She felt her face go hot, and cursed her fair complexion. “I… I… Don’t…”

He reached out, fingertips cool on the line of her jaw. “Such a pretty blush.”

Before she could figure out how to react, Rand pivoted on a bare heel and walked away, giving her a luscious view of his bare ass. He dropped on the bunk, leaving her standing there shaking, her nipples pebbled tight inside her borrowed uniform. Embarrassed and hot at the same time.

“Do you want this?” He lay back, elbows on the mattress. “It doesn’t have to be sex between us. Though I’ll admit, I’ll be painfully disappointed if it’s not.” His gaze hardened, amusement draining from his green eyes. “I’m not that bastard Godshammer. I do take no for an answer, and I will protect you.”

He meant it. The thought brought her a sense of relief, along with a twinge of guilt. What would happen to him when she ran? And she would run. She didn’t dare hang around waiting for Lordsvengeance to decide to torture her. Her gaze slid from his. “Thank you.”

His eyes narrowed and chilled as if he read her mind. “That said, I won’t let you escape. If you try, I will come after you and I will catch you.”

“Understood.” Something tightened low in her belly.

“And you like that idea, don’t you?”

Lie
. The thought flashed through her skull.
Don’t let him know how much power he really has
. “Don’t be absurd.”

He threw back his handsome head and laughed. “You know better than to think you can lie to me. Vampires can smell a lie.” His dark smile broadened. “And that’s not all we can smell.”

She knew exactly what he meant, and felt her cheeks heat. The fact he could smell her need was almost as galling as it was intriguing.

Wrong. This is so wrong
. And yet some part of her really didn’t give a damn if it was wrong or not. Zara wanted him, craved the hot burn of his fangs in her throat, the feel of his hands gliding over her skin. Wanted him and really didn’t give a shit about wrong or right, or anything but satisfying the hot need he inspired.

She realized she was staring at him, at the hard elegance of his body. At the strength in those big hands. At the cock curving over his ridged belly and pointing at his chin, ready and arousing.

“You don’t want to tell me no, do you?” His hand drifted down the length of his beautiful chest, coming to rest over his belly button, thumb pointing at his delicious erection, fingers spread. She wanted to touch him more than she wanted to feel that big hand on her skin.

“You’re a submissive.”

Zara started, her eyes flying to meet his, her lips parted instinctively on a lying denial.

“Don’t bother. I sensed your reaction when I handcuffed you.” Golden eyes watched her with hooded interest. “I heard your heart leap when the cuffs closed around your wrists. It beat even faster when you felt me behind you at the perfect distance to bite or kiss -- you didn’t care which.”

“I… I… You…” She stammered, couldn’t think of a lie -- and realized she didn’t want to tell one anyway.

She felt what she felt. Needed what she needed. And it didn’t matter what she was supposed to feel, supposed to want. She wanted what she wanted, and she was going to take it.

Take
him
.

* * *

“I need a bloodslave.” Rand said the words boldly, watching her eyes flicker as she reacted. Yeah, she was a submissive. It was obvious in the tremble of that soft mouth, and the jut of the nipples beneath her borrowed uniform. “And you need a dominant. That’s what you fantasize about, isn’t it? A man willing to do all things to you that you’ve ever dreamed of. You crave that every bit as much as you need my blood.”

She looked away, a beautiful blush spreading over the lovely contours of her face. “Yes.”

“Yes, what?” Damned if he’d let her off the hook. He did not want any confusion or doubt or simple misunderstanding about what either of them wanted. It would be too easy otherwise to make a mistake, especially given how much he needed her. Wanted her.

“Yes, I want a dominant.” He felt his cock lengthen another inch at the erotic possibilities in those exquisite eyes. “I’ve always had fantasies about…” She swallowed. “You. Vampires.”

“That’s why you became a bloodsub.”

“V.S.S.,” she corrected. “Vampire support specialist.”

He laughed, though not at her. When she shot him an offended glare, he elaborated. “It always amuses me, how the military has to invent acronyms, prettying everything up.”

Her expressive mouth flattened. “You mean the way your colonel talked about making me talk without ever using the word ‘torture?’”

“First, he’s not my colonel. But yeah, he is a son of a bitch. And like I told you, I’m not going to let him touch you.”

“How are you going to stop him? He outranks you.”

“You let me worry about that. All you need to know is that I take my responsibility to my submissives seriously. That means I don’t do anything they don’t like. So what
do
you like?”

“I don’t know.” Her gaze slid away from his again. “I’ve never done…
this
before.”

“Well, what do you fantasize about?” And God, he’d love to hear all about any kinky thing she wanted to tell him.

She smiled, her expression open. Honest. “I fantasize about a lot. But there can be a lot of ground between fantasy and what someone likes in reality.”

“Then I’ll give you a safe word -- a code to use if I do something you don’t like. Or if something hurts more than you want.”

“How about the words, ‘stop, dammit’?”

“Smartass. The code is ‘abort.’ Use it. And I’m not just talking about when something hurts physically. I mean if you start having a panic attack or it just gets too damn intense for you.” He met her gaze, his own level, ignoring his nudity. “The point of this relationship is not abuse. It’s sensual pleasure, even if that pleasure comes from having your ass caned.”

Her eyes widened just slightly and her lips parted.
Direct hit
, Rand thought. There was a little masochist in the soldier after all.

Not that he was surprised. Most soldiers had a little masochist in them, whether in a sexual form or not.

He sent a pulse through his computer implant, and the magnetic restraints released, dropping from her wrists to thump down on the shelter’s plastron flooring. “Take that uni off.”

Zara licked her lips nervously and brought her arms around, one hand rubbing at the opposite wrist. Her gaze never left him, flicking from his face to his erect cock, down his legs to the bare feet crossed at the ankle.

She licked her lips again and reached up to follow the seal of the baggy uni. It split open on a V of creamy skin, revealing the sweet cleavage between her unbound breasts. Pointing the way to the dip of her belly button, then further down to the rise of her pubic bone.

She shrugged in an elegant little gesture, and the uni slid to her elbows, baring those delicious breasts, round and firm and insanely tempting. Her nipples were sweetly erect, rosy and distended with blood.

His fangs twinged.

She straightened her arms, letting the uniform drop down the length of them -- it really was ridiculously big on her -- to catch on her hips before tumbling to her ankles.

For a moment she stood there, slim and delicious, all her lush curves on display, breasts and hips full and tempting, the narrow nip of her waist between them. Luscious as she was, there was muscle beneath her silky skin that revealed she’d worked to build her strength in the endless wait between battles.

If we’d met
on
the battlefield, I would’ve had to kill her
. Rand thrust that dark thought away. It hadn’t happened… At least, not so far.

He swore in that moment that he would never raise a hand to this deliciously vulnerable woman. Even if she tried to escape, he’d find a way to keep her safe.

Though there was something intriguingly erotic about the thought of chasing her… Then again, he found something erotic about damn near everything where Zara was concerned.

While he’d been distracted by another wave of lust, she toed off her boots and stripped away the last shreds of her V.S.S. armor. Once a suit lost its structural integrity, it was little better than tissue paper.

“Pick up the restraints and come here.”

Zara dropped into a graceful crouch and obeyed, then rose to bring the cuffs to him. Her eyes were cast downward in unconscious submission, and her hands shook ever so slightly as she held out the neurocuffs, whether in fear or excitement. Something was definitely making her heart pound.

He inhaled, testing her scent. Yeah, that was arousal.

She could have feared him. Maybe
should
have feared him. And yet it seemed she believed him when he said he wouldn’t hurt her.

Reassured, Rand sat up on the side of the bed. “Come here.” He gave her a deliberately menacing smile. “I want to…
discuss
your endangering yourself by smarting off to the colonel earlier.”

Her expression was more intrigued than anything. “What exactly do you have in mind?”

He grinned wolfishly as he accepted the cuffs. “What do you think?”

She opened her mouth to answer, but he grabbed her wrist and jerked, tumbling her down across his lap. He pinned her there while she was still yelping. “Give me your other wrist.”

She kicked, but it came nowhere near him. “Fuck. Off!”

His palm landed on the delicate curve of her ass in a loud, meaty
swat
!

“Ooowww!” She kicked again, and he took a moment to admire the working muscle of her gorgeous little ass.

Rand inhaled, testing, and confirmed she was still thoroughly turned on. Sniffed again.

Oh yeah. He’d somehow stumbled on the little submissive of his horny dreams. The one he’d been looking for all his years of being a vampire.

Capturing and cuffing her wrists one by one, he paused to contemplate her pretty backside with wolfish anticipation.

Then he proceeded to turn that delicious little butt a bright rosy pink, dotted with handprints.

Chapter Four

 

Zara had fantasized about being spanked so many times. Imagined the sting of a hard palm landing on her ass, the rough growl of a male voice rumbling orders.

There was something that just got to her about being helpless like this. About the sound of his hand igniting a fire in her ass with those ruthless swats. Yeah, it hurt more than she expected -- enough to have her cursing and yowling by turns. But it was also more arousing than her hottest fantasy.

And the way he looked at her, all blazing lust. Yet something in his eyes made her feel… beautiful. And, oddly, safe. As if she could trust him to protect her, could just surrender, knowing he wouldn’t go too far. As if his focus was more on what she wanted, needed, than on his own desires.

Which wasn’t to say he didn’t thoroughly enjoy beating her ass. She was acutely aware of the long velvet-skinned arch of his cock against her ribs as he held her in place across his lap.

He paused his furious swats. She lay over his hard thighs, panting. Wondering what he planned to do to her now.

He brushed his fingers delicately across the curve of her ass. “Very pretty. Very… pink.” Laughter infused his voice. “How’d you like that, captive?”

Wildly aroused, wanting only to incite him to do something else equally delicious, she spat the first thing that came into her head. “Fuck off!”

The next impact of palm on butt was so hard, she damned near swallowed her tongue. “Now, is that any way to talk to your captor? I asked you a question, prisoner.”
Swat
! “How.”
Swat
! “Did.”
Swat
! “You.”
Swat
! “Like.”
Swat
! “That?”

Given the pain radiating from the site of that last blow, Zara swallowed the impulse to spit another obscenity. Silence ticked.

“Maybe I’ll just check for myself.” A finger brushed the swollen lips of her pussy. Slid between them to dip into her core.

Both of them groaned at the thick, slick cream he found there.

“Mmm,” he purred. “Seems you enjoyed your spanking almost as much as I did.” This time two fingers dipped into her. Pushed deep even as his thumb strummed over her clit. Once. Twice. Playing her pussy, strumming notes of heat and delight with every inward dip and thumb swirl. “This is a really nice pussy you’ve got here. So very wet and tight. I can’t wait to drive my cock into it.”

Judging by the broad heat of his erection butting against her ribs, she could believe it. Imagining how delicious it would feel, she wanted to beg. “Don’t!”

He stilled. “Do you want to abort?”

The cold wording slapped her back to sanity. He was asking if she wanted to use the safe word he’d given her as a way to call a halt. For a moment, she wanted to use it, just to find out whether he really would stop. Especially given the goad of that iron hard on.

“No! No, I don’t want to stop!” Which was why he’d given her a code to begin with -- so he could tell whether she really meant stop, or had just lost herself in playing the role of reluctant captive.

“You sure about that?” He jerked his fingers from her pussy and hit her ass again in another juicy slap.

“Oowww! Yes, dammit! I’m sure! Do not abort!”

“In that case…” He opened his knees wide, dumping her on the floor, though he held her waist to make sure she didn’t hit too hard. Rising to his feet, he pulled her onto her knees.

Face to head with his cock. A teardrop of pre-cum beaded on its slit, a glistening testament to his arousal. “Put that pretty mouth to good use.” He wrapped a big fist in her hair and pulled her in, his free hand guiding the big shaft between the lips she opened for him.

He tasted of salt and man as he filled her mouth, hot and thick and maddening. Imagining how he’d feel stuffing her wet and empty pussy, she groaned in need.

And began to suck. Hard. Eagerly. Swirling her tongue over the underside of the shaft, licking the sensitive vein that ran along its length.

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